
mm^"^ 



, G 3/^^ 




GoipglitW . 



corauGHT DEPOSm 



NO PLAYS EXCHANGED. 



B7\HER'5 Edition 
or Pl7\y:5 




1 



HER PICTURE 



m 




COPVRIfiHT, 1fift9. BV WALTER H. BAKER A CO. 



BAKER'S DARKEY PLAYS 



Edited cmd arranged for publication from the well-known repertoire o 
^HOOLCRAFT AND COES " imth all their origvna/ 



SCHOOLCRAF 

*'gags, 



and "■ stage IniHiness,'* 



Price 



BY GiSO. H. GOES. 

15 -c^vts «ach. 



"Luke Schoolcrs^ft'* and "George Goes" are too well known to admirers. #»f 
Negro Minstrelsy to require comment, and the following selections from their 
admirable repertory of pieces have no need of other recommendation. Ko one 
who has seeu these artists iii any of the follo"wi»g list of sketches needs assijr- 
ance <if their humor and good acting quality. Twelve are^now ready, ajid others 
will follow as the demand arises. 

Mrs. DidymUS* Party. In One Scene. Two niale character^. 

Scene, a plain room. An immensely humorous tritie. l'lav^ 

twenty minutes. 
Music VS. Slocution. In One Scene. Two male cliaracters. 

Scene, a plain room. Always very popular. Plays fifteen minutes. 
Mistaken Identity. In One Scene. Eight male and one female 

characters. Can be played in "white lace" if desired. Plays 

fifteen minutes. 
Oh, W^ell, It's No Use. In One Scene. Three male characters. 

A very funny sketch, full of genuine darkey humor." Plays 

twenty minutes. • . 

Here She Goes, and There She Goes. In One Act. Einht 

male and one female characters. An uproariously funny j)!** . 

of great popularity. Plays twenty-five minutes. 
A Finished Education. A Finale for the "First Part" of a 

Minstrel- ^^^t^Ftainment. Three speaking characters. Ko cliange 

of scene -^ 
Black Blunders. In Two Scenes. Ki»e males and three femah -. 

Scenery simple; costumea e<;centri<:. Very liTely «nd amusin^j,. 

Plays twenty-five minutes. . ' - 

The Old Parson. A " Firsi Part Finish " for a Minstrel Enter- 
tainment. Six speaking characters. No change of scene. 
Sublime and Kidiculous. In One Scene. Three male characters. 

Scenerj'- and costumes very simple. A sure hit for a good burlesque 

comedian. Plays twenty minutes. 
Elveryday Occurrenoes. A "First Part Finish '* for a Minstrel 

Entertainment. Three speaking characters. 2<o change of scene. 
Badly Sold. In Two Scenes. Four male characters and supers. 

A very funny piece. Can be played "white face" with equally 

good effect. Plays twenty minutes. 
Our Colored Conductors, in Two Scenes. Three male c])ar- 

acters and ten supers. This is an uproariously funny *' skit " and- a 

sure hit. Plays twenty minutes. 



( (if<ifogu€» describing ike above and other pojniilfur ^ntertainmeuts 
stnifree on application to 

WALTER H. BAKER & CO., 

THEATRICAL PUBLISHERS, 
No. 23 Winter Street - BOSTON, MASS. 



HER PICTURE 



^ Cornells in ©m ^ct 



BY 



/ 



RACHEL E. BAKER 

Author of "Mr. Bob," "The Chaperon," "A King's Daughter,' 
"After Taps," etc. 



As Originally Produced by the Proscenium Club of Roxbury, 
Mass., April 27TH, 1894 



//o %^-^ 



BOSTON 



^£l'^^^//y(^c„^£,^f>^^ 



1894 



y^ 






CHARACTERS 



John Remington, aft artist. 
Tom Dalton, in love with Marjorie. 
Mrs. Mallorv, a widow. 
Marjorie, /ohn^s sister. 

Time^ afternoon. Costumes, modern. 




Copyright, 1894, by Rachel E. Baker. 



HER PICTURE 



Scene. — A studio in John Remington's house. Entrances, l. c. 
and L. ill flat. Fireplace, R. in flat. Mantel with glass above 
it. Fire upon hearth. White fiir rug on floor before it. Tea- 
table by fire. Chair by table. Chair for model upon platform 
in R. corner. Couch covered with fur rug and sofa-pillows in 
L. flat. Table with lamp, L. c. Window, R. c. Fahn upon 
table at window. Between door and window, i7t alcove, a la?ge 
fra77ie upon draped easel — a cu7'tain hangs before it. Lamp with 
reflector at side of curtain. Sketches upo7i walls a7id easels. 

(^Curtai7i raised, discovers Marjorie i7i 77iodeT's chair, sitting for 
portrait. Should wear a light, effective gow7i. Jack standi7ig 
before ca7ivas up07i easel i7i c. of stage, pai7iti7ig. Back of ca7i- 
vas see7i by audie7tce.) 

Marjorie {sighs). Oh, dear ! This is so tiresome, Jack. I 
have been sitting here more than an hour, I know. You have 
worked long enough. 

Jack. Only a few moments more, my dear. Do try and look 
interested. You wouldn't like to have me hand you down to pos- 
cerity as a cross-grained specimen of humanity. 

Marj. I should much prefer to have you hand me down from 
this chair. I defy any one to help looking bored, with only an old 
bachelor brother to gaze upon. Now, if it were only — 

Jack. Tom. That reminds me — 

Marj. {interested). Well? 

J ack ( worki7ig) . I saw — 

Marj. Yes. 

Jack {deliberately). I saw — let me see — chrome yellow. {Looks 
ill paint-box for the color.) Ah ! I have it. 

Marj. O Jack ! you are so provoking. 

Jack. I met a young man in the park to-day — 

Marj. Yes, yes: go on. 

Jack. Pie — he looked like Tom Dalton. 

Marj. {deligiitcil ). \ knew it was he. What was he doing? 
Where was he going? And did he ask for me? 

Jack. My dear girl ! give me time. I can't answer all those 
questions at once. In answer to your first inquiry, I would say 

3 



4 HER PICTURE. 

that Mr. Dalton was having a fine ride in the park. To the second, 
he seemed to be going — 

Marj. Yes, Jack. 

Jack (working fast) . Toward his destination. 

Marj. {disgusted) . You are such a briUiant man, I am proud to 
know you. 

Jack. He spoke of you. 

Marj. {interested). Well.^ 

Jack. And hoped to call very soon. 

Marj. {clasps hands very aniniated). Dear Tom ! Did he say 
just when. Jack? 

Jack. Don^t move. You are just as I want you now. 

Marj. Do answer my question. When is he coming ? (Jack, 
absorbed in his work, does not answer.) Jack. 

Jack. Wait a moment. There, I have it! 

Marj. Well, I haven't my answer. 

Jack {throws down brushes, stands iii front of Marjorie lauoh- 
ing, hands in his pockets) . He is coming — some time, my dear. 

Marj. {rises, indignant ; Jack helps her fro7?i platfor))i). You 
are just as hateful as you can be. Jack Remington. {Goes to fire- 
place ; Jack moves easel to back of stage.) 

Jack {la^ighing, crosses stage to Marjorie). All is fair in love 
and art, Marjorie. {Raises her face.) There was only one way to 
make this tired little sister of mine look interested, and that was to 
talk abo"ut Tom. But come, light the kettle. {T^crns 7ip lamp on 
large table.) And while we are waiting, I will have a smoke. 
{Takes pipe fro})i mantel.) And you can tell me all about Tom, 

Marj. {lights lainp nnder kettle upoii tea-table; sits in chair by 
table). You don't deserve to hear anything. 

Jack {throws himself upon, rug). Yes, I do. I have ren- 
dered you immortal. Give me a light, sister mine. {Rests head 
npo7i Marjorie's k7iee, holds pipe in mo7ith ; Marjorie lights it.) 
There ! isn't this solid comfort? My day's work done, a jolly fire to 
look into, and a dear little sister, only two months home from her 
schooling across the water, to keep me company. Now for Tom. 

Marj. I beg you will not treat Tom in such an off-hand manner. 
You say ' ' Now for Tom ! " in very much the same tone as I have 
heard you exclaim " Now for dinner!" Tom is not an inanimate 
object, sir. 

Jack. Decidedly not. When I made my appearance in the 
studio the other day, I cauoht him upon the point of kissing you. 
Quite alive, IVIarjorie — ha, ha! 

Marj. Do be serious. I met Tom last summer in Switzerland 
when I travelled with Aunt Fanny. When we returned to Brus- 
sels, aunt opened her house for the winter. She used to invite me 
to dine with her once a week, and sometimes Mr. Dalton would be 
there. 

Jack. Oh, yes! I see. 

Marj. School was so tiresome, it was a delightful change. 



HER PICTURE. 5 

Jack. To see Tom ? 

Marj. {ptills his hair). No, you stupid ! To dine out. We all 
came home together. 

Jack. '^All?^' 

MarJ;, After the graduation Aunt Fanny travelled with me 
through Italy. Tom was with us. Mrs. Mallory, Tom's sister, 
was on her w^ay from India; and when the steamer touched Naples, 
we took passage on the same ship. It was glorious. I wasn't ill 
a moment. Poor Mrs. Mallory was, and couldn't promenade with 
her brother. 

Jack. But j/^;/ did. 

Marj. The poor fellow was so Ion. ly. I couldn't be disagree- 
able, you know. 

Jack. Of course not. 

Marj. Now, Jack, if you try to torment me, I won't say another 
word. 

Jack. I am mum. Go on. 

Marj. He was so pleasant to walk and talk with, and so nice to 
look at, I — I rather liked it. 

Jack. Certainly. 

Marj. You know what steamer life is. When you have seen 
the same person for ten days, why it is natural to like them very 
much — or not at all. 

Jack {takes si/ting positioii). The most natural thing in the 
world. And you like Tom ? 

Marj. Yes ; very much. There 1 

Jack {rises). Good I I admire your frankness. {Crosses 
stage.) 

Marj. {rises ^ and follows Jiiin j takes his ar77t j tJiey walk back 
and forth]. And, Jack — I think that Tom will have something in 
particular to say to you to-day. He will be so embarrassed. You 
won't make fun of him ? 

Jack. Never! I like Tom. If he proves himself the right 
sort of chap, I shall smile upon him with brotherly approval. 
( They stand in centre of stage ; Jack has his arm about Marjorie.) 
The man who wins Marjorie Remington must have a heart as good 
and honest as hers. {Kisses her.) 

Marj. {arm about his neck). You are such a dear brother! 
Why don't you marry some sweet little woman? 

Jack {arjn about Marjorie: they cross to fireplace ; Jack takes 
a piece of bronze front mantel). Do you see this piece of bronze ? 

Marj. Yes ; I have often wondered what it was. Is it valuable? 

Jack. In a way. Valuable for the lesson it teaches. {Speaks 
bitterly.) Whenever I see a pretty woman, and think that I would 
like to fall in love wdth her, I look at this. 

Marj. Why, Jack ! your tone is bitter. What is it ? 

Jack. Nothing, dear. It is an old story now. It was given me 
by a woman whose heart seemed as honest as yours {Leads her 
to frame, draws aside curtain.) This frame once held her picture. 



6 HER PICTURE. 

Us emptiness is but the reflection of my own heart. {Drops cur- 
t.iiii ; turns away.) Never trifle with an honest man's love, Mar- 
jorie. {Touches leaf of palm.) Like this delicate plant, give it 
warmth and loving care, it grows and spreads its leaves, and by its 
beauty returns a hundred-fold the thought lavished upon it. Tri- 
fle with it, treat it with neglect, it soon loses its beauty, and be- 
comes but a shadow of its former self. {Co7nes down stage.) But 
enough of this. Give me my tea, and we will talk of something 
pleasant. {Laughs.) Shall we have more of Tom? By Jove I 
I have just thought of a letter which I must have in by to-night's 
post. {Makes for door, L.) 

Marj. Won't you have a cup of tea first ? 

Jack. Business first, pleasure afterwards. I won't be long. 
Keep the fire burning. {Laughs.) Tom may appear at any mo- 
ment. {Exit R.) 

Marj. I wish that he would. I haven't seen him since morning. 
{Looks out of window.) He is not in sight, anywhere. {Cojnes 
down stage; goes to mantel, takes up bronze.) Poor Jack ! Some 
one must have had a very wicked heart to .have made him so 
unhappy. I donH see how a piece of bronze could remind him of a 
pretty woman. I- feel guilty to be so happy myself. {Sits at table ; 
pours cup of tea.) I know that Tom will be frightened to death 
of Jack. {Drinks tea.) Oh, dear! It is such a responsibility to 
choose a husband. {Sii^hs.) It is a great care to be in love. 
{Knock at door.) There he is now. I must not be too glad to 
see him. {Places cup on table.) The proper thing is to aflect 
indifference. {Kiieels before fire j adds log of wood ; is very busy 
with fire when Tom enters.) 

{Enter Tom Dalton, l.) 

Tom. May I come in ? (Marjorie does not answer.) No one 
here. {Sees Marjorie.) There she is now. {Places hat on chair 
by door ; crosses to fireplace and einbraces Marjorie.) May I 
come in? 

Marj. No, you may not, if this is your usual way of announcing 
yourself to a lady. 

Tom. It would be my only mode of entrance \i you were the 
fair one, Marjorie. {She tur?is away.) Do smile upon me. Ah ! 
you would not turn away like that if you only knew. 

Marj. {turns). What? 

Tom. That I approached this house with fear and trembling. 
My very blood chilled in my veins. 

Marj. Did you meet with an accident? 

Tom. No ; I was afraid I should meet your brother. 

Marj. {relents; laughs). No need to be afraid of Jack. He is 
the dearest brother in the world. 1 have something to tell you, 
Tom. {Sits upon couch.) 

Tom {alarmed). Break it to me gently, Marjorie. Does he 
object ? {Seated beside Marjorie.) 



HER PICTURE, - 7 

Marj. No ; he likes you. 

Tom. Three cheers for brother Jack ! I admire his taste. He 
is the sort of man I hke. Ah, Marjorie, your words have sent the 
aforesaid blood leaping and surging upon its onward course. 
Thomas, whose surname is Dalton, is himself again. 

Marj. {crosses to tea-table). Shall I serve you a cup of tea ? 

Tom. What ! and miss the opportunity of waiting upon you 1 
Never ! {Seats Marjorie i7i cJiah' ; business of hunting for 
footstool. ) 

Marj. What are you looking for ? 

Tom {takes cusJiio)i from coucJi). I have it. {Places it at 
MARjORiE^sy^t'/.) There! if your imagination is up to standard, 
and if we only had a stiff breeze blowing, you could fancy yourself 
upon the briny deep. {Pours cup of tea; sings.) '* Sailing, sailing, 
over the ocean blue." {Brings tea /<? Marjorie.) Didn't we have 
glorious times? 

Marj. Yes. {Sipping tea.) Do you remember the moonlight 
nights ? 

Tom. Do I ? DonH I ! {Takes rug from modeVs chair ^ covers 
her with it.) When I wrapped you warm like that, and wanted to 
do like this. {Kisses her.) 

Marj. O Tom ! 

Tom. {sits upon arm of chair). Isn't this just fine? 

Marj. {sighs). Yes ; but it is too lovely to last. 

Tom. Nonsense ! Do you know, that to feel that you love me, 
Marjorie, gives me the strength to remove mountains. {Grows 
eloquent.) To brave the wind and waves {rises, takes position), 
to lead a troop of men to battle. 

Marj. {quietly). Shall you speak to Jack to-day? 

Tom {sinks into chair). I — I suppose so; but I would rather 
fight a duel. 

Marj. {rises; laughs). And you were feeling so brave. You 
silly fellow ! Before I would be afraid of a girl's brother ! 

Tom. Oh, it's all very well for you to stand there and laugh at 
me, but you haven't got to face the music. 

Marj. As long as it isn't the rogue's march, I wouldn't be 
afraid of any music. 

Tom., Fm not. Don't you worry. 

Marj. I won't, and I will stand by and protect you. I will be 
your guardian. {Holds ottt hands to Tom, who takes them.) 

Tom. My guardian angel ! {About to kiss her, when Jack 
enters J they separate.^ 

{Enter Jack, with letter iti haiid.) 

Jack. My conscience is clear at last. I have finished that 
letter, and now I am ready to — {Sees Tom.) Hallo! When did 
you arrive ? {They shake hands.) Glad to see you. 

Tom {ejjibarrassed). Thank you. Nice day. 

Jack. Yes ; inside. {Offers chair.) Sit down and enjoy the 
blaze. Will vou smoke ? 



8 HER PICTURK. 

Tom. No, thank you. (Si'/s in chair by fuc.) Nice fire. 

Jack. Yes; Marjorie and I have been enjoying it. {Sits in 
chair opposite fire and 7?iirror ; Marjorie serves tea.) Are you 
anything of an artist ? 

Tom. Oh, no ; but I like studios. {Looking aboiU room.) Nice 
room. 

Jack. Yes ; rather cosey. {Drinks tea ; aside, imitates Tom.) 
Nice boy. 

Marj. {stands behiji d ]acyCs chair ^ drinking tea) . Doesn't this 
remind you of five o'clock tea on board ship ? 

Tom. Yes, indeed. 

Jack. So you two have crossed the ocean together. 

Tom. Yes ; together. {Looks at Marjorie, who smiles en- 
cotiragingly .) 

Marj. It was just glorious. Jack ! The waves were so grand 
and powerful, 1 loved to watch them ; and as the Avater dashed over 
the bow of the ship, I would stand for hours looking at it. 

Jack. Alone? Of course. 

Marj. {pulling his ea?-). Of course. But one night the storm 
was so severe, we were not allowed on deck. We could hear the 
water breaking against the sides of the vessel, while the wind was 
blowing a hurricane. We lost courage, and I surely thought we 
were going down; but the poor sailor in his lookout sent forth his 
watchword reassuringly, and, when the mornins; came, we found, 
indeed, that all was well, for the sun was shining brightly, and we 
were in smoother waters. {Rests her head upo7i Jack's for a 
moment.) I don't like to think of that time. If I had not come 
back, it wouldn't have been '* AlPs well" to you, Jack, would it, 
dear? 

Jack {placing his hand tcpon hers). Hardly. It wasn't your 
time to go, Marjorie, and it won't be, I hope, for some time to 
come. {Speaks brightly.) There is so much for you to do in this 
world, you will be a very busy woman. You must have had some 
jolly times crossing, when the weather was fine. 

Tom. Indeed we did. {Gives an embarrassed laugh.) You 
know people very well on board ship. {Repeats business of looking 
at Marjorie.) 

Jack. Oh, yes, of course. Must be warm friends at the end of 
a voyage. 

Tom. Sometimes you like them very much. {Same business; 
Jack watches Marjorie in glass.) 

Jack. Exactly. 

Tom. And sometimes you love some one very much. (Mar- 
jorie throws hiin a kiss ; looks in glass, sees Jack laughing at her.) 

Jack {rises). Ha, ' ha, Marjorie ! Next time you telegraph 
kisses don't stand before a mirror when your old bachelor brother | 

is looking there also. {Brings Marjorie down front; Tom *' 

follows.) I understand, Mr. Dalton, from one or two remarks of 
Marjorie's (Marjorie tries to stop him), and from one or two of 



HER PICTURE. 9 

yours, that you both found something more interesting and attract- 
ive in the ocean voyage than the glories of the moon, the grandeur 
of the sea and skv. Oh, the moon did shine? 

Tom. Nice n>€on. 

Jack. And the result was that this little sister of mine lost her 
heart somewhere about mid-ocean. 

Tom. Yes, sir. It floated to me, and if you are willing, I — I 
should like to anchor it in a safe harbor. 

Jack {offers hand). Well said, Tom. I don^t see as there is 
any other way for me to do but to allow you to adopt me as your 
elder brother: but this is such a practical world, we must not lose 
sight of it in the glamour of a moon-lit voyage. Marjorie, leave us 
for a few moments. 

Marj. Dear me ! Business, of course. I won't give you but 
five minutes. Don't waste it in smoking. {Exit.) 

Jack {motions for Tom to be seated). Sit down. (Tom sits. 
Jack offers hi/n cigarettes. Tom takes one. Jack offers light ] both 
seated smoking.) Now tell me all about yourself, Tom. 

Tom. I am all right financially, Mr. Remington. I have just 
been admitted junior partner of the banking firm of Dalton & 
Gregory. You know the house, sir? 

Jack. Only by reputation. Their standing is very high. 

Tom. I have seen a bit of the world, and have travelled quite a 
little. I shall be very glad to settle down in London. 

Jack. Has this been your home? 

Tom. Only recently. My father formerly lived in India. 

Jack. India ? 

Tom. Yes ; though 1 was away at college at the time. 

Jack. What is your father's name? 

Tom. Robert Dalton. 

Jack. Robert Dalton ! 

Tom. Do you know my father? 

Jack. Yes ; I was an artist in India eight years ago. 

Tom {rises). Not the Remington who painted my sister's por- 
trait? 

Jack {rises). The very same. 

Tom. My father never forgot the grand old fellow who made 
such a hero of himself in the service. ( Takes him by both hands. ) 
Why all India was agog with it. And Marjorie is your sister. 
What luck! 

Jack. And yours? 

Tom {crosses to mantel). Ruth married one of my father's 
friends, Richard Mallory. He is dead now. Well, I am pleased ! 
My cigarette has trone out. Where do you keep your matches? 

Jack. You will find them in a box at your right. 

Tom {takes piece of bronze f}-om mantel). Hallo! Where did 
you get this? 



lO HER PICTURE. 

Jack. Your sister gave it to me. It is supposed to bring the 
possessor good luck. I am afraid it has missed its vocation. 
{Speaks bitteily.) 

Tom {aside). I wonder if he loved Ruth. {Aloud.) Never 
knew it to fail. Sooner or later fortune will smile upon you. It is 
a useful thing, too. Valuable for sending private messages. Now, 
to look at it one would never think that it could contain anything. 
You press a spring so. {Box opens and discloses paper.) By 
Jove ! here is one now. 

Jack {agitated; takes it front hi7n). Yes; I use it for priv^itc 
papers. 

Tom. I beg ten thousand pardons. I did not mean to intrude. 

Jack {returns bronze to mantel), I forgive you. 

Tom {aside), I believe that he was in love with Ruth. 

{Enter Marjorie.) 

Marj. Your time is up. Everything settled? 

Jack. Yes ; very satisfactorily. I find that 1 knew Tom's father 
in India. 

Marj. Then we can all be such good friends. I want you to 
know Tom^s sister, Mrs. Mallory. (Jack turns away; Tom 
watches him.) She is so sweet and lovely. I know you would 
like her; and {langhi/ig), who knows, perhaps you will fall in love. 

Tom. Your brother and I have agreed that you must obey me to 
the letter. 

Marj. Indeed, I have not signed any such contract. 

Tom. Come with me, and we will sign it now. (Tom ^;/<^ Mar- 
jorie exennt, R. Jack follows them to the door ; stands looking,) 

Jack. The old, old story. They love one another. The very 
sun shines more brightly for them. I hope Marjorie will not be 
disappointed. Tom is a lucky fellow. If every woman had as true 
a heart, there would be less of bitterness in the world. {Crosses 
to 7nantel.) And I too once loved, and was happy in the knowl- 
edge. {Takes tip bronze.) To think that so small a piece of 
bronze could hold hidden within itself a man's fate. {Takes paper 
from bron.ze ; re. ids.) "My answer is no." Ah, Ruth Dalton ! 
why did you lead me to paint upon my heart as well as upon the 
canvas the image of your face and beauty? {Turns down la?np 
tip07i table ; sits before fire,) The light from the fire is sufficient. 1 
like to sit here and think ; to picture in the flames what might have 
been. Oh, those happy days in India ! I can see her now, 
dressed in a soft, clim^^im^: crown, as she sat before me. We chatted 
Upon the current news of the day, ne'er dreamed of love at first. 
At last, with every stroke of the brush, love guided my hand, and 
the words I had not tlie courage to utter breathed softly from the 
work upon the canvas. Not until the portrait was finished did I 
dare to speak ; with" what anxiety I awaited the answer to my letter. 
At last it came, enclosed in this bit of bronze. Those few words 



HER PICTURE. I I 

changed my whole life. But what nonsense, Remington. Shake 
yourself together, old man, and don't sit before a fire sighing for a 
pretty woman. So I am to lose Marjorie, and she will be Mrs. 
Tom Dalton. (^Laughs.) Bless her sweet heart ! I hope she 
will be happy. She deserves it. {Yawns. ^ I must be growing 
lazy in my old age. I feel inclined to take a nap before the fire. 
i^Yawns.) Mrs. Tom Dalton. My Marjorie to be married. Mrs. 
Tom — {Falls asleep.^ 

{Enter Marjorie.) 

Mar J. Jack ! {No answer.) Jack ! {Crosses to fireplace.') 
Here he is, asleep. Now that I am settled for life, he thinks that 
he can take a nap. Dear old Jack! He is so-alone. I wonder if 
he is comfortable. Let me see. {Places sofa-pi I lozv on floor, 
raises Jack's feet gently, places them npon pillow.) There, that 
is better ! I want him to see Mrs. Mallory. He can't help falling 
in love with her. 

Tom {calls.) Marjorie ! 

Marj. Dear me, what trials men are ! I can't move out of 
Tom's sight but I hear him calling me. I wonder if it will be so 
after we are married. I may be the one who will call. {Exit l.) 

{Enter Mrs. Mallory.) 

Mrs. Mallory {speaks brightly). May I come in ? May I 
come in? No one here. '* Silence gives consent," so I suppose 
I may. This must be the studio. Yes ; there are sketches upon 
the walls and upon the easels. I must be right. {Takes up hat 
from chair ; looks inside.) Tom's hat. He must be here. Dear 
fellow ! he is so madly in love, he's Miss Marjorie's shadow. 
{Crosses to fireplace.) Why, here he is asleep! Well, upon my 
word ! Calling upon a pretty woman, and taking a nap. This 
will never do. I must teach him better manners. {Behi?id chair ; 
places hafids over Jack's eyes.) Tom, Tom, dear! 

Jack {awakens, catches Mrs. Mallory's hands, holds them, 
and draws her to him) . Is that you, Marjorie? {They recognize 
one another.) 

Mrs. M. Jack Remington ! 

Jack {rises), Ruth Dalton ! 

Mrs. M. I — I beg your pardon. I thought you were Tom. 

Jack {brushes Jiands across eyes). Am I dreaming? {Turns 
up light on table.) No, no ; it is all real. Ruth, Ruth, how came 
you here ? 

Mrs. M. I came to see Marjorie's picture. I was not aware that 
the brother of the young girl whom 1 had grown to love so dearly 
was the Mr. Remington whom I met in India. 

Jack {offers chai?) . Won't you be seated ? Your sudden ap- 
pearance made me forget my manners. 

Mrs. M. {sits by table). Thank you. You have left India? 



12 HER PICTURE. 

Jack. Yes ; and have become wedded to my art. I was wounded 
during the service. I drifted back to my own country. 

Mrs. M. Your friends in India were very proud of you. They 
called you the hero of the hour. 

Jack. It was very kind of my friends ; but there was more of 
foolhardiness than bravery. {Looks at her with ?neani7ig.) There 
are some things that only the shot and shell of battle can erase from 
one's memory. 

Mrs. M. {returns his look). And those who cannot take their 
wrongs to battle, who have no means of winning golden laurels, 
must bury their sorrows deep within their hearts. 

Jack. You have left India? 

Mrs. M. I returned two months ago. We have been living in 
London. You left your friends in India without bidding them good- 
by. 

Jack {coldly). I paid my respects to all who wished them. We 
are upon dangerous ground, Mrs. Mallory. {Rises.) I will speak 
to Marjorie. 

Mrs. M. {coldly). If you will, please. (Jack bows coldly and 
exit.) 

Mrs. M. {rises). What strange workings of fate have led me to 
these doors. "Dangerous ground!" Yes, he speaks truly. And 
my brother loves his sister. {Crosses to fireplace.) O Jack, Jack! 
What was it that came into our lives eight years ago and made me 
so desolate? 

{Eftter Marjorie, r.) 

Marj. My dear Mrs. Mallory, how good of you to come! 

Mrs. M. I could not possibly have stayed away. I am so 
anxious to see your picture. 

Marj. {leads her to easel). There are to be a few more touches, 
I believe. 

Mrs. M. It is beautiful. Your brother has a master touch. His 
work reminds me of an artist — whom I once met in India. 

Marj. India! Why, Jack was there several years ago. 

Mrs. M. Indeed ! {Looks at curtain.) What treasure lies 
hidden there. 

Marj. Only an empty frame. {Leads her to couch; both 
seated.) It once held the portrait of the woman whom my brother 
loved very dearly. 

Mrs. M. {agitated). Tell me about Tom. 

Marj. Everything is perfectly lovely. Tom spoke to Jack 
to-day. 

Mrs. M. And he is willing? 

Marj. Oh, yes. You see, he likes Tom, and then he knew 
your father in India Isn^t that funny? So strange that you and 
Jack have never met. 

Mrs. M. Oh, I spent most of my time travelHng. 

Marj. Dear old Jack! I want you to know him. He is so sad 



HER PICTURE. 13 

and lonely sometimes. I shall never forgive that horrid woman for 
breaking his heart. {Ar^n about Mrs. Mallory.) Wouldn't it be 
just too lovely for anything if you two would fall in love with one 
another. 

Mrs. M. {assuines gayely). Nonsense, my dear girl! Because 
you are in love with Tom you think that every one should follov/ 
your example. 

Marj. {laughs). That is just it. I wish every one to be as 
happy as I am. {Rises.) You must have a cup of tea. I know 
you are fond of it. {Crosses to tea-table.) 

Mrs. M. I never refuse it. {Follows her.) Your brother seems 
to have a fondness for Indian curios. 

Marj. Yes. One or two lumps ? 

Mrs. M. One, dear. {Takes up bronze j starts ; aside.) The 
talisman that I gave him. 

Marj. {brings her a ctip of tea). Isn't that a curious old bronze? 
It seems to have very valuable associations for Jack. 

Mrs. M. Valuable? 

Marj. Yes ; Jack says that it is valuable because it is a constant 
reminder that he must not fall in love with a pretty woman. 
{Laughing.) See what an ugly face it has. That is the strange 
part of it. Why, how pale you look ! {Seats her in chair.) There ! 
do sit down. I am so thoughtless. 

Mrs. M. It must be the heat of the fire. I am better now. 
{Drinks tea.) Your tea is refreshing. 

Marj. I am so glad. I will speak to Tom. May I bring my 
brother Jack? 

Mrs. M. Not now, dear, if you do not mind. I still feel faint. 

Marj. Then it shall only be Tom this time. {Exit.) 

Mrs. M. It isn't the fire, little Marjorie. A flood of bitter 
memories lias overpowered me. {Rises; takes bronze.) Eight 
years ago you loved me. Jack Remington. I sent my answer in 
this talisman. It was "Yes; "my heart full of love for him. I 
waited for his coming, but in vain. He entered the army, and went 
out of my life completely. What could it have meant? And why 
this bitterness when we meet again? I wonder if the message is 
still here? It will do no harm to look. {Opens bronze ; reads.) 
" My answer is no." What does this mean? My message was in- 
tercepted. W^ho could have been so cruel? I did not know that I 
had an enemy in the world. This, then, explains his sudden depar- 
ture. O Jack ! how you have misjudged me all these years ! 

{Enter Marjorie andTo^, r.) 

Marj. Here he is, Mrs. Mallory. 

Tom. You have found your way at last to the enchanted castle 
where my princess dwells, (/^/^^^i- Marjorie's ar^n in his.) Not 
a bad-lookino- couple, are we? Marjorie has promised to obey me in 
everything. 

Marj. Indeed 1 have not! 



14 HER PICTURE. 

Tom. Then we must sign that contract again. {Attempts to 
kiss her.) 

Marj. {preventing him). Once is enough — for the present. 
You are feeling better, Mrs. Mallory? 

Mrs. M. Oh, yes! It was only a h'ttle faintness. Your cup of 
tea has refreshed me wonderfully. {Rises.) I am quite myself 
again. 

Marj. Then you will surely see Jack. 

Mrs. M. Not now, dear. Some other time. I have an appoint- 
ment later. {Stands between them, hafid npon arm of each.) It 
is a pleasure to see you both so happy. Guard your love from 
doubts and petty jealousies. Love is too rich a blessing to be tri- 
fled with. {Speaks lightly.) There! I have preached you a little 
sermon, and hope you will treat me with proper respect and dignity 
for such wise sayings. 

Marj. {arm about her). I shall love you dearly, and shall be so 
glad to have you for a sister. And I know Jack will be too. 

Mrs. M. {embarrassed). Thank you, dear. But I must go. 
Tom, wdll you be my escort ? 

Tom. Certainly, Ruth. {Takes gloves frojn pocket.) Oh, this 
reminds me. {Takes letter from pocket.) Here is a letter for you 
from India. 

Mrs. M. From India? Oh, yes ! my solicitors. 

Tom. Open it. It may be something important, 

Mrs. M. 1 think it can wait. 

Tom. But I can't. You will excuse us, won't you, Marjorie ? 

Marj. Certainly. {Busies herself at tea-table ; finally exit.) 

Mrs. M. Children should be amused. {Takes froin envelope 
two letters ; reads.) 

Mrs. Mallory, 

Dear Madam. — Your aunt, Mrs. Gardner, died two months ago. Enclosed 
you will find a letter, which she desired should be sent you. 

Respectfully yours, 

Richard Creighton. 

{Speaks.) Aunt Rebecca dead ! 

Tom. I hope she has left you a handsome legacy. She did all 
she could w^iile living to make your life miserable. 

Mrs. M. {lays hand npon Tom's arm; speaks gently). No 
matter now, Tom. She is dead. {Opens letter] reads. Becomes 
agitated.) O Tom ! am I dreaming ? (Tom reads letter alond.) 

My dkar NirxK. — ! have a confession to nake. When you read this try 
not to think too unkindly of me, for I shall be counted amongst those whose 
earthly life is ended. Eight years ago, Mr. Remington, the artist, loved ycu. 
Your Cousin Richard, my son. was nlso an ardent suitor, and begged me to help 
him win you. I saw you give the Indian curio to a messenger, intercepted it, 
and — forgive me — changed the answer. 

Tom {speaks). A devil in petticoats. 

Mrs. M. {sinks into chaii'). O Tom, I am so happy! {Bursts 
iiito tears.') 



HER PICTURE. I 5 

Tom. {hands in his pocizets ; %uliistles). The deuce you are I 
Then you loved Marjorie\s brother? 

Mrs. M. Yes; I always have. 

Tom. {hand upon he?' shonlde)). We will have it O.K. in five 
minutes, Ruth. I will go and find him. 

Mrs. M. {rises ; detains Jiiin.). You will do nothing of the kind. 
He probably does not love me now. 

Tom. Gad ! that's so. I never thought of that. 

{Enter Marjorie.) 

Marj. Did you have good news in your letter ? 

Tom. Yes ; just immense. It is as good as a fairy story. Let 
me tell it you. 

Mrs. M. No, Tom; I will. {Leads Marjorie to couch; both 
seated.^ Once upon a time a young woman, while living in India, 
met an artist, who desired to paint her portrait. He was so manly, 
seemed to possess so much strength of character, that the girl soon 
lost her heart. 

Marj. He must have been something like Jack. 

Mrs. M. He returned her love, and they were very happy to- 
gether. He sent her a letter asking her to be his wife ; and she, 
wishing tliat her love should bring him good fortune, sent an ac- 
ceptance in an old Indian curio, a talisman for whomsoever should 
possess it. Then a wicked fairy came along, disguised as an old 
aunt, who wished the young lady to marry some one else, and 
changed the answer. 

Marj. The horrid old wom'an. 

Mrs. M. Believing that his love was not returned, the young 
man entered the army, and was so brave and courageous upon the 
field of battle that all India sang his praises. After waiting and 
hoping for three years that her lover would return, she consented 
to marry one of her father's friends, still loving the artist. Eight 
years passed — meanwhile the husband died ; and the woman, now 
a v/idow, received upon the death of the wicked fairy, the aunt, a 
written confession of the unkind act wliich she had committed. 

Marj. Did the artist marry? 

Mrs. M. No; lie became wedded to his art. {Rises.) Mar- 
jorie, I have been telling you my own story. 

Marj. Oh, I am so glad it came out all right ! You have only 
to find the young man. 

Mrs. M. And if that man should be your brother? 

Marj What, reallv ' my brother Jack? 

Mrs. M. Yes. 

Marj. {embraces her). Oh, I am perfectly delighted! Jack 
will be so glad. {Makes for door, L.) 

Mrs. M. {detains he' ). Where are vou going, Marjorie? 

Marj. To tell Jack. 

Mrs. M. But Jack may not love me now. 

Marj.# Oh, but I am sure that he does. Do let me tell him. 



l6 HER PICTURE. 

Mrs. M. No; I must be sure first. What shall I do? 

Tom. Let him see aunt\s letter. 

Marj. Yes ; and while he is reading it, you watch him. You 
will very soon find out. I know {draws aside curtaiti)^ the empty 
frame. Let the picture live again. 

Mrs. M. But how? 

Marj. With your own dear self. 

Tom. Marjorie, you are a trump ! 

Mrs. M. {eagerly). Give me some paper, Marjorie. 

Marj. {brings writing materials). Do say something nice to 
him. Think how lonely he has been all these years. 

Mrs. M. {writes; encloses paper with letter i7i envelope^. It 
must be placed where he can see it. 

Tom. Yes ; here by the lamp. Now for it. 

Mrs. M. My heart is beating so. 

Tom. I am with you there. Mine is beating a regular military 
tattoo. I could not feel more frightened if I were to be married. 

Marj. {turns up light by frame, draws aside curtain). Come, 
Mrs. Mallory. 

Mrs. M. Yes. {Goes to portiere at door, c.) Don't leave me, 
Marjorie. 

Tom. Oh, a third party would spoil all the fun. Then it is 
time to sign that contract again. 

Marj. Now, Tom, send Jack to us. 

Tom. You won't stay? 

Marj. Only to speak to Jack. (Tom exit.) 

Mrs. M. Marjorie. 

Marj. Yes, dear. 

Mrs. M. Do you think that Jack will be glad? 

Marj. Glad? {Clasps her hands.) I know he will be just as 
happy as I am. 

{Enter Jack, snioking.) 

Jack. Tom said that you wished to speak with me. 

Marj. {leads him to chair before fire). Yes. Sit down ; I want 
to talk with you. 

Jack {sits). Of Tom?. 

Marj. {kneels beside him). No. Tell me about Mrs. Mallory. 

Jack. Don't talk of it, dear. I try so hard to forget it. The 
sight of her brought back the old love. It was all a mistake; she 
never cared for me. 

Marj. Perhaps there was some misunderstanding. 

Jack. How could there have been ? I would not believe the 
answer, anci called twice. {Bitterly.) She would not receive me. 

Makj. Hut now thai she is so near us, perhaps you could win 
her love. 

Jack. No; too late. I will never again dream of such happi- 
ness, but bask in the warmth of domestic felicity at your fireside. 

Marj. {rises). Jack, I feel sure that it was the ship q£ fate in 



HER PICTURE. 1 7 

which Tom and I crossed the ocean. It broiiglit happiness to us, 
and it will come to v^ou. Something tells me that the good days 
are coming back ai^^iin. 

Jack. No, no; that is impossible. 

Marj. {arm about his neck). On that stormy night at sea the 
simple cry, '* All's well." came to us. bidding us be patient and 
wait. Perhaps it will come to you, and that from the ashes of your 
buried hopes a greater happiness may arise. {Kisses Jiivi.) If it 
comes, no one will rejoice more than your sister Marjorie. {Exit.) 

Jack. " Buried hopes ! '^ Yes ; so deeply that they have ceased 
to strive to rise. Strange, after all these years, we should meet 
again. She shall never know how much I cared. And yet I 
thought she loved me. We seemed to be so happy in those days. 
With winning smile and sweet glances she led me on, then threw 
my love aside, a mere bauble, an empty nothingness. I wish I 
had not seen her. I had hoped that I had forgotten. Ah, no! in 
the fitful flames I see the face of the woman I loved. My ears 
seem to echo with the sound of her voice when she spoke. 

Mrs. M. {tinabU to control herself, speaks softly)'. Jack. 

Jack {listens). An odd fancy. I thought some one called. 
{Rises ; crosses to couch; lounges icpon it ; smokes.) I can see her 
now, as she sat for her portrait, her eyes so bright and glorious, her 
lips parted, as though she would say — 

Mrs. M. {softly). Jack. 

Jack {rises). No fancy this time. {Goes to door, L.) No, it 
was not Marjorie, she is busy with Tom. {Crosses to table; sees 
envelope.) Hallo! what is this ? {Opens letter ; reads.) ''When 
you have read the enclosed letter, if you sti.ll love me, seek me. 
Ruth.'" {Sinks into chair.) What can this mean? {Reads letter.) 
How could any one have been so cruel! Ruth, you have loved me 
all these years. {Rises.) Seek you? Indeed, I will. Marjorie 
is right ; the old days are coming back again. 

^\3i:Yi {speaks softly). Jack. 

Jack {turns; notices light by picture). What does this light 
mean? {Drazus aside curtain; tableau. Ruth stands behind 
f?'afne; holds out hands to Jack.) 'Ruth ! 

Mrs. M. Yes. You still love me, then? 

Jack {takes her hands in his; kisses them). Still love you? 
My love has been and always will be yours. 

{Enter Tom a/id Marjorie.) 

Marj. Have you found her. Jack? 

Jack. Yes. See ! the picture lives again. The frame no longer 
is an empty one. Again it holds the face of the w^oman 1 have 
always loved. Like my heart, it will hold and wear forever her 
picture. 

{Tableau. Mrs. Mallory in frame. ]acv. stands in at Ti.. of 
fra?ne; holds out hands to her. ToM and Marjorie dow7i L,, 
/^<?/^/;/^ ^'^Z Mrs. Mallory . Quick curtain.) 



THREE NEW COMEDIES. 

A LIMB a THE LAW. 

A COMEDY IN TWO ACTS. 

By M. R. ORNE, 

Author of " The Country School," " A Black Diamond," etc. 

Six male and four female characters. Costumes modern and easy ; scenery, 
two simple interiors. Plays about an hour and a quarter. This piece humorously 
describes the straits of a young lawyer without practice and his ingenious way of 
raising the wind. It is quiet in action and refined in tone, but uproariously funny, 
particularly the second act, the complications of which are side-splitting. Con- 
tains a capital negro part. 

Price, 15 cents. 



A MAJORITY OF ONE, 

Or, LOVE AND MUSHROOMS. 

A FARCE IN One Act. 

By FRANCIS A. HARRIS, 

Author of " Chums," " Class Day," " Old Probabilities," etc. 

Three male and two female characters. Costumes and scenery perfectly 
simple. Plays forty-five minutes. An admirable farce, not of the noisy sort, but 
brim full of quiet humor. Timothy Norcross's political ambition and Henry 
Mason's amatory plans continually get in one another's way with amusing 
consequences. Their misunderstandings are innumerable and immensely funny, 
and the piece is a sure hit. Under its second title it was originally played by the 
Pi Eta Society, of Harvard College. 

Price, 15 cents. 



A CIGARETTE FROM JAVA. 

A COMEDY IN ONE ACT. 

By T. RUSSELL SULLIVAN. 

i^As performed for the first time at the Boston Museum^ Oct. i^, ^^79-) 

Four male and two female characters. Costumes modern, with one excep- 
tion ; scenery very simple. This is a most delicate and ingenious piece of comedy 
writing, refined in humor and sentiment. Tcherita, an Oriental girl, who appears 
in Eastern costume, has a cigarette which irresistibly compels the one who 
smokes it to utter what is uppermost in his niind. Its use in unravelling th« 
tangle of Regina's lovers is the action of the piece. 

Price, 15 cents. 



A NEW PLAY FOR FEMALE CHARACTERS. 



A KING'S DAUGHTER. 

A COMEDY IN THREE ACTS. 

By RACHEL E. BAKER, 

Author of **The Chaperon," "After Taps," Bob," itc. 

EleTen female characters. Scenery, an interior and an exterior. Costumes, 
modern. Plays two hours. This piece is an excellent solution of the difficult 
problem of writing a strong acting play for female characters only. Nan 
Graham's self-denying heroism and laudable ambition arouse the strongest dra- 
matic sympathy, and her right to wear '*the silver cross" is faithfully won. 
Ample humorous incident and plenty of enjoyable girlish frivolity serve to re- 
lieve the trials of the heroine. This piece will not only serve to promulgate the 
charitable objects of the organization from which it takes its name, but will 
make a strong dramatic appeal. 

Price , , . . 25 Cents. 

SYNOPSIS: 

ACT I. Mrs. Graham's drawing-room . The King's Daughters. Rebecca and 
the deacon. A belated love-story. ** The name of Rebecca Spencer Avill 
always live." Nan's lover. The poor relation. An unknown friend. The 
sewing bee. Nan's secret. The Kodak. Mab's poetry. Tea and tease. 
Polly's ruse. •' It is good cake, Helen." The lost letter. 

ACT II. The Fair. Polly makes her mark. The post-office. Tender correspon- 
dence. Patient Nan. Kitty's cake. Polly and the glue. Sallie's candy. 
The secret of the letter. Business. Florence and the soda-fountain. The 
letter found. Nan's trial. The sacrifice. Duty before all. "My house is 
no longer lier home, if she refuses." Nan's choice. The world before her. 
In His Name. 

ACT III. In the hay-field. The mysterious hostess. Nan's birthday. Miss 
Rebecca's "Romeo." Polly's speech. Regrets. "Is there no atonement I 
can make?" The Deacon speaks at last. Rebecca's discovery. Helen, *' I 
will never again call myself a King's Daughter ujitil Nan has forgiven me." 
Coals of fire. The dairy -maids' dance. The Fairy Godmother. A sur- 
prise. Nan's inheritance. The tell-tale photograph. A new Cinderella. 
Aunt Clarissa's mystery. The explanation. " A King's Daughter." 



A NEW COMEDIETTA. 



A Borrowed Umbrella. 

A COMEDIETTA IN ONE ACT. 

By ESTHER B. TIFFANY, 

Author of "A Rice Pudding," "A Model Lover," etc. 

Two male and two female characters. Scenery, unimportant ; costumes mod- 
ern. A very bright and graceful little trifle. Plays only about fifteen nuuuteSc 

Price • • • • 1,5 Cents. 



By the author OF "SHAMROCK AND ROSE." 



A Bit O' Blarney. 

An Irish Play of the Present Time in Three Acts. 
by fitzgerald murphy. 

Author of " Shamrock and Rose," *< The Irish Statesman,'* etc. 

As originally performed at the Park Theatre, Los Angeles, Cal., April 10,1893. 

Nine male and two female cliaracters. Modern costumes. Scenery, an ex-= 
terior and two interiors, not difficult. Time in playing, two hours and a half. 
This is an entirely new and original drama of Irish life. Its plot is unconven- 
tional and stirring, its interest is absorbing, its incident fresh and abundant and 
its dialogue replete with true Irish wit, humor, sentiment and poetry, Rody, 
the Rover, originally played by the author, is a near relation of Boucicault's 
"Conn" and "Shaun." Mr. Lawton, the American lawyer, is a capital part; 
Cuddeen Cassidy, Corkerry, Darby Darney and Shevaun are excellent character 
bits. This is a very strong piece alike in plot and character, ani acis itself. 

Price ^5 Cents. 

SYNOPSIS: 

ACT I. Glen Blarney by moonlight. Old-fashioned love-making. The arrival 
of the American. The rescue. The first chapter in an international romance. 
A story of California. Rody and the leprehaun. The story of Rosaleen. The 
black bird and the dove. The blow. Love under the furze-blossoms. The 
trust. The robbery and the murder. The Accusation. 

ACT II. Shevaun's shebeen at sunset. The May-day festivities. The Queen o' 
the May. Cuddeen Cassidy falls into the wrong company. The old, old 
story. Lord and peasant. The proposal. The story of the murder. Arrival 
of the police. The parting. The Arrest. 

ACT III. Blarney Manor. " The darkest hour before the dawn." A California 
game of bluff. The murderer and the ghost. The widow's predicament. 
The conspirators. The Bit o' Blarney. Rosaleen's peril. The attempted 
assassination. The tables turned. Squire Rody. 



FOR F EMALE CHARACTER S ONLY. 

THE GOVERNESS. 

, A CONIKDY IK one: ACT. 

FOR FEMALE CHARACTERS. 

Three characters, two of which impersonate two others as well. Scenery, 
a simple interior. Costumes of the last century, but may be modern, if desired. 
An admirable piece for two clever girls, good at disguises, providing a bright and 
snappy entertainment for school or hall. 

Price . , , , , 15 Cents. 



BY THE Author of '' A RICE PUDDING/* 



A MODEL LOVER. 



A COMEDY IN TWO ACTS, 



By ESTHER B. TIFFANY, 

AUTHOR OP " A BORROWED UMBRELLA," ** THAT PATRICK,'* ** YOUNO 

MR. PRITCHARD,'* "A RICE PUDDING," "THE WAY TO HIS 

POCKET," " ANITA'S TRIAL," *' AN AUTOGRAPH 

LETTER," ETC. 

Three male and three female characters. Costumes modern, save the dress 
of the " model " for wliicli any picturesque costume will do. Scene, an artist's 
studio, very easily improvised. This is a clever and graceful little play in Miss 
Tiffany's characteristic manner. The story is interesting, the dialogue delicately 
humorous, the characterization strong and humanly quaint. Can be strongly 
recommended to the best taste in such matters. 

Price • « * • * 15 Cents* 



A NEW PARLOR FARCE 



PER TELEPHONE. 



A. FARCK IN ONE ACT. 

BY 

MARGARET MONTGOMERY. 

Two male and three female characters. Scene, a drawing-room ; costumes^ 
modern and elegant. A very bright and amusing little play developing in its 
action some of the perils of making love by telephone. Mr. Guy Harling, by 
making use of this mode of communication, proposes to Nan's cousin instead of 
Nan Cuzzin, to his great consternation. A very bright little piece for psurlf^ 
p«rformance. 

Price V » , .15 Cents, 



A NEW WAR DRAMA. ^ 



At the Picket LmE. 



A Military Drama of the Civil War in Five 



aAs. 



By JUSTIN ADAMS, 

VUTHOR OP " T'RISS ; OR, BEYOND THE ROCKIES," " THE INFERNAI* MA- 
CHINE," *'DAWN," "THE SCICIDE CLUB," "THE ENGINEER,** 
"THE RAG-PICKER'S CHILD/' "THE LIMIT OF THE LAW," 
" DOWN EAST," ETC. 

Ten male and three female characters. Costumes modern and military. 
Scenery varied, but not difficult. This piece is a proven success, having been on 
the road for several seasons, and is now printed for the first time with all the 
original " business " and stage directions. Its story is ingenious and absorbing 
in interest, its sentiment genuinely patriotic, its dialogue vigorous and its humor 
abundant. An excellent battle scene and a camp scene, both perfectly practica- 
ble, admirably fit it for the use of Grand Army entertainments. All the char- 
acters are strong, Cherrington, the hero, being very magnetic, and Silvy, a refined 
soubrette, a part of great opportunity. 

Price • • • • ^5 Cents. 
SYNOPSIS: 

ACT I. The Northern home. " The best darter that ever lived." Hiram and 
Silvy. A wayward son. Albert Cherrington. More than a brother. The 
mortgage. The hawk and the dove. " Too late ! He has given his word." 
Silvy speaks. " But I havn't." 

ACT II, Scene 1. Dissembling. The wedding ring. A deserter. The awk- 
ward squad. " The gal I left behind me." French leave. The wrong man. 
An easy promotion. Under Arrest. Scene 2. At headquarters. " A wise 
recruit that knows his own name." The missing witness. Crosscomb again. 
" I never saw that man before in all my life." Doomed. 

ACT III. At the picket line. Camp followers. The fringe of a plot. In rebel 
uniform. Leonora and Caleb. Outwitted. "Remember that one live woman 
is more dangerous than a hundred dead men." Surrendered to a girl. 
Scene 2. The battle. A skulker. Playing possum. A bold charge. "An- 
other victory for the North." Scene 3. After the battle. Robbing the 
dead. The vision of Silvy. The Recognition. " No ! He is a Union spy." 

ACT IV. The Union camp. Humors of camp life. " A drop o' the crater.'- 
A vile plot. The warning. "Here's a small bottle for yourself alone." 
The tables turned. " My God, the liquor was poisoned l"^' The traitor's 
death. " It means that I, who have almost starved for a crust of bread, an? 
now a millionaire." 

ACT V. The North again. A ruined home. The returned soldier. Crosscomb 
once more. Silvy's wedding day. Albert Cherrington. Dark before tut 
dawn. "Ah, it is his ring." Hiram lifts the veil. "Yes, Silvy, he is 
a-living." Crosscomb crossed. "Then her father's, son will pay it." The 
altar and the halter. United. 



A NEW MONOLOGUE FOR A GENTLEMAN. 



The Proposal. 



r 



By HECTOR FEZANDIE. 

One male character in modern costume. A very clever and Ingenious littlf 
slory of every-day life, very lively and dramatic. Plays twelve minates. 

Price « . . 15 Cents. 



BY'^'^E Authok or "THE STOLE N WiLL.'^ 

THE FINGER OF FATE 

OR, THE DEATH LETTER. 

A. NIKI^ODRAIMA IM ThRKK AoT3. 

By LEN ELLSWORTH TILDEN. 

Author of "The Stolen Will," *' The Emigrant's Daughter," etc. 

Eight male and three female characters. Several changes of scene in each 
act, but all " drops " — not difficult. Costumes modern and easy. The action of 
this piece is very exciting, its situations numerous and strong, and its humor 
abundant. Lewis Prouty, the reporter, a character originally played by tho 
author, is a very "fat" part. Crazy Maud and Brigham Webster are powerful 
"heavy" characters. The thousands who have played and liked this author's 
*' Stolen Will " will find in his latest piece another " hit." The following extract 
from a letter from the late William Warren, to whom the piece was originally 
offered, will serve to show how it appeared from the standpoint of this theatrical 
veteran : 

•BuLFiNCH Place, Boston, Mass., May, 1882. 
Mr. Tilden, 

Dear Sir : — 

The secret of a good play is short, crisp dia- 
logue and action. Such is your play " The Death Letter." 

William Warren. 

This piece has been on the road during the past ten years under contract 
with the author, and is now published for the first time. 

Price . • • • • 15 Cents. 



A N EW COMEDIE TTA. 

A MATRIMONIAL ADVERTISEMENT. 

A. COIvIE)DY IN ONE ACT. 
By EGBERT W. FOWLER. 

Author of "A Lover's Stratagem." 

One male and one female character. Scene, a simple interior. Costumes 
modern. This clever and ingenious solution of a quarrel between two young 
l)eople will make an excellent *' curtain raiser." Very amusing and perfectly r© 
tined. plays about twenty minutes. 



B 



AKER*S SECECTED LIST \ 
OF JUVENILE OPERETT>\5 

Designed especially for Church, Sohool, and other Amateur Cjrffan- 
iz at ions. Complete, With all the music and full directions for 

parformance. 



Grandpa's Birthday. In One Act. Words by Dexter Smith; 
music by C. A. White. For one adult (male or female) and three 
children; chorus, if desired. Piuce, 25 Cents. 

Jimmy, The Newsboy. In One Act. Written and composed by 
W. C Pakkeu. For one adult (luale), and one boy. No chorus. 
Very easy and tuneful. " PiiiCE, 25 Cents, 

The FouTrleafed Clo.ver. In Three Acts. ByMAiiY B. HoRNE. 
For children of from six to fifteen years. Seven boys, seven girls, 
and chorus. Very picturesque. JPkice, 50 Cents. 

Beans and Buttons. In One Act. Words by Wm. H. Lepere; 

music by Alfred G. Hobyn. Two mate and two female characters; 
no chorus. Very comical^ and easy, Pkice, 50 Cents. 

Hunt the Thimble. In One Act. Words by A. G. Lewis ; music by 
Leo K. Lewis. Two male, two female characters and small chorus. 
Simple and pretty. PiiiCE, 50 Cents. 

Red Riding Hood's Rescue. In Four Scenes. Words by J. E. 
Estabuook; music by J. Astor Broad. Tliree male, four female 
('haracters and chorus. 1*kice, 50 Cents. 

Golden Hair and the Three Bears. In Five Scenes. By J. Astor 
.Broad. - Three adults (2 m., i f.), eight children and chorus. Music 
is -easy, graceful, and pleasing. PiiiCE, 75 Cents. 

R. B. Porter ; or, The Interviewer and the Fairies. In Three 
Acts. Words by A. G. Lewis; music by Leo H. Lewis. Six male, 
six female characters, and chorus. Very picturesque and pretty. 

Price, 75 Cents. 

-Gyp,. Junior. In Two Acts. Words by Earl Marble; music hy 
D. F. Hodges. Two males, one female (adult), three children and 
chorus. Very successful and easily produced. Price, 75 Cjcnts. 

AlvinGray; or, The Sailor's Return. In Three Acts. Written 
and composed by C. A. White. Ten characters, including chorus; 
can be made more effective by employing a larger number. 

Price, 75 Cents. 



Catalogues describing the above and other popular entertain- 
ments sent free on application to 

WALTER H. BAKER & CO., 

THEATRICAL PUBLfSHERS, 

No- 23 Winter Street, - Boston, Mass. 



NEW OPER ETTAS FOR CI 

Odd! Operas FOR Eventide. 

A Collection of Short and Simple Musical Entertainments for Children. 

By Mrs. C. N. BORDMAN, 

AuTiKtR OF "Tin: Kingdom of Mother Goose," ''Motion <5oNo>i i oj? •ww s« unoi- 
KooM," "The Temperajsce ClarIo^," j . 

Complete witb all the music ami fiill instructions for perfonnance. This rollection is 
strongly recoui mended for its simplicity, origiuality of idea, tuuet'ulnesB and perlect prac- 
ticability. 

Price 50 cents. 

A GLIMPSE OF THE BROWNIES. A Musical Sketcli for ( 1 il 
dren. For any number of boys. 

JIMMY CROW. A l^ecitation for a.Little Girl. 

MARKET DAY. .An Operetta for Young People. Seven spekuL ])arts 
and chorus. 

QUEEN FLORA'S DAY DREAM. An Operetta tor Children. Six 
speaking parts and chorus. 

THE BOATING PARTY. A Musical Sketch ?or Little Children. 1 i i y 
boys and girls. 

SIX LITTLE GRANDMAS. A Musical Pantomime for very Little 
Children. Six very little girls. 

A HOUSE IN THE MOON. A Recitation for a Little Girl. 



ROBIN'S SPECIFIC; 

OR, THE CHANGES OF A NIGHT. 
A Christmas Of'Kretta in Okk Act, 



Words by 
AMELIA SANFORD. 



EVIusic by 
ADAM CIEBEL. 



For one miult and nine cliildren from eight to sixteen years old, with eight very little boys 
and twelve little girls for Chorus. Three clmnges of scene, very easily arranged, costumes 

vari««I but sniiple and readily procured. Very eHect.v© and easily gutien up. 



Price 



25 cents. 



Catalogues describing the above and other j)opula,r entertainments sentjYte on uppi»r^'^ i.^n tt 

WALTER H. BAKER & CO., 

THEATRICAL PU3LISHERS, 

No. 23 Winter Street, - - BOSTON, MASS. 






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